Travels in a Tin Can

supposed to be fully operational - according to the recently debunked religion
of Woodall's-ism. Driving into the park we passed a surprising amount of
traffic, and we got quickly disorientated. A combination of lack of detailed
map, lack of road signs, and a lack of inclination then meant we soon turned
around and headed back to town. The prospect of staying in a government,
and therefore probably primitive, campsite was not appealing - assuming we
could find it and it was open and it had spaces. As soon as we had driven
away from the closed camp in Tusayan we had mooted the idea of booking
into a hotel - at least for one night - and this sounded like a very good choice
to my cold-addled mind.
Besides, whilst driving in the park we were acutely aware that the road
was close to the Canyon, and we could sense the void away to our right. No,
driving in the pitch black in this place did not seem sensible.
Ten minutes later we had enquired in about six hotels about availability
and asked for 'best offers' (surprisingly cheaper than the rates first quoted).
We settled on a Holiday Inn Express with prices that were just within our
nightly budget - though admittedly about three times what we had actually
been spending each night. Emma loaded me up with an overnight bag to take
to our room, so I could get inside straight away, and then she drove off in
search of food. Or at least tried to drive off.
The hotel car park was very crowded and we had spent about ten
minutes manoeuvring into a space, with about a hair's breadth between
Harvey and the nearest cars. Emma now faced reversing out of said space.
And did I mention the car park was sheathed in ice? Earlier, on leaving the
closed campsite, we had proceeded very gingerly over ice-bound back roads.